Don't Let It Be Me
by Battus philenor
Summary: Another AU GS story. I just love them so.


Title: Don't Let It Be Me

Author: Battus philenor

Disclaimer: These characters are not mine; I just use them on occasion.

A/N: This is another AU story that exists only in my mind. I would like to thank Marlou for her wonderful beta work and Carmen for her patience and help with my severe tense issues. Without Carmen this story would be in my trash bin.

Vibration is what wakes her. Not a constant tremor, but random waves and bouts of mild jerkiness, thrusting her into an only semi-roused state. Glancing at the clock she realizes the reason she's so groggy. Having only been asleep for two hours she feels hung over, eyes swollen and scratchy, mouth dry and her head wanting to ache.

Reaching for the glass of water which always sits on the nightstand, she knows the cause of the trembling. It's the same thing that's woken her for the previous six nights, her bedmate, restless as he dreams of things which he won't tell her about afterwards.

While she knows that the nightmares must be horrific, the details remain a mystery to her. The normally guarded man who still tosses next to her now has been even more so of late; refusing to share any of the particulars of the scenes which haunt him nightly. Thinking back seven days ago, Sara wonders what kind of twisted scenarios Grissom's sub-conscious is now creating for him

It was a cool Nevada desert night, forty-five degrees with a slight breeze. There was not a cloud in the sky, which allowed the warm sun-heated air of the previous day to drift up and away, leaving its cold carcass behind. Typical weather for this time of year in Vegas, but their night ended up being anything but typical.

The call sent them to a murder in an upper class neighborhood just north of the city. Quiet meandering roads you could get lost driving around on, new enough not to have been planned out like a grid, with yards sufficiently sized to allow for an above average amount of privacy for suburbia. It was the kind of area they themselves had looked into soon after he and Sara had found out they were expecting.

An area which was inhabited by well-established business owners, casino upper management, and big business assistant director types; those who made enough money to get out of the city, but not enough to buy their own block. They were all living the American dream. Not a place in which one would expect to find the scene that they walked in on.

What would be learned the following day would change preconceived guesses on what had actually happened and why, but initially walking up on it was hard, even with the original misgivings of all involved.

A decapitated seven year old girl who was still clinging to her dead mother was not a scene often processed, even in Las Vegas. Doc Robbins had to pry the girl's fingers open, unclenching her fists from her mother's dress. So tightly wound around bunches of blood stained silk, it had left rigid indentations in her palms.

Sara watched Grissom study the tiny body, and then walk across the room to look at the head. His fingers were tightly curled, leaving half moon marks on his own palms. Gritting his teeth he bent down; she knew he was trying to gauge the amount of precision involved in removing the head. She watched the muscle in his jaw twitch repeatedly, unsure if he was working it to try and stay strong emotionally or physically.

And while the first thoughts of all present were that some random psycho was on the loose in north Vegas, impressions would change upon reading the Mother's journal and finding the Father's body out at Lake Mead. Suicide note in his lap, thoughtfully placed in a plastic baggy to avoid being soaked with blood after the shot rang out.

The mother had doubts as to just how close the suicide victim had been with his daughter and she wrote of gaining enough courage to broach the subject with him. She ran the gamut of emotions starting with fear. A fear for her only child possibly being abused in the one place she should be safe. She was angry at her husband, and at the possibility that he was hurting their child who was born out of their love. And disbelief that the man she'd been married to for ten years could do such a monstrous thing to a living product of their love.

Sara was just glad that the mother wasn't able to write about the last horrific incident. It was bad enough to learn what they did from reconstruction, but to actually hear the scene through the mother's own words might be too much for anybody to handle.

They were able to piece together the main particulars; there was some sort of confrontation in which the mother was killed with a butcher's knife. The daughter was killed with the same knife after her mother was already dead. He'd used enough force to completely sever the head before dropping the weapon and fleeing the scene.

The suicide note took care of the whys as far as his death was concerned. He knew he would be caught for his wife's murder; there was no way to escape. Accused child molesters were not treated kindly in prison so he saw only one way out. He took it along with the help of his registered Glock nine mil. Leaving one family totally wiped out and hundreds more changed forever. All that knew them, either well or even peripherally would never be the same, including the investigators.

The day after the murder/ suicide, the Grissoms' had an appointment with Doctor Bridger, Sara's gynecologist. It was discovered that in just five months they would be having a girl. It was a joyous occasion marked with hand holding, tears, and even a few stolen kisses in the examination room. Things couldn't have been more perfect, until that night. From that night forward, the nightmares had come. The kind that left him soaked with perspiration and totally tight lipped about them, and Sara terrified for him.

And as Grissom struggled now with another of his nightmares, Sara sat watching him, unsure of how much more of his turmoil and silence she could take. As she watched his face contorting in obvious pain, her heart clenched, the pain in her chest real as she witnessed her husband's distress. Moving closer to him she rested a gentle hand on his shoulder hoping to ease him out of his fitful sleep. Leaning in she whispered his given name as she squeezed his shoulder lovingly, trying to provide a comforting way to extricate him from the nightmare.

His movements calmed some before his eyes flew open and he sat almost shockingly upright. Realizing his surroundings, his attention was immediately drawn to Sara and her belly, concerned only for Sara and Gabriela, their baby. His eyes widened and his hand went without hesitation to cover and protect Gabriela the unborn.

"The baby," He whispered, while looking intently into Sara's eyes for any evidence of discomfort or pain.

"No, we're fine. I'm worried about you," She whispered back, giving his shoulder another gentle squeeze. "You were having another nightmare."

Relief washed over him momentarily as he realized his family was okay.

"I'm fine, just a nightmare. Now go back to sleep, you and little Gabby need it." He leaned down, lifting Sara's shirt and placing a kiss there on her swollen belly.

"Grissom, I asked you not to call her that. When you call her Gabby, all I can think of is Gabby Hayes. I can't think of our daughter as a wrinkled old cowboy, it's disturbing. We need to pick a new name."

"Sara, we deliberated long and hard over that baby name book, and that's the one we decided on. That's the one that struck us both." He looked at her with pleading eyes, having thought they'd already spent way too much time trolling the pages of that book.

Leaning in she kissed his cheek as she wiped the perspiration from his forehead. Grabbing her hand from his face he brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it as his head hung almost shamefully. Sara saw the water forming in his eyes as she leaned in to kiss his cheek once more.

"Please tell me what's going on with these nightmares, Gris." She paused, hoping that tonight he'd break down and let her know what was going on. Holding her hand, he took a deep breath, seeming to prepare himself for conversation.

She waited patiently, her mind drifting to the shoebox in the closet. The one on the shelf, pushed all the way over to the left, and the letters inside of it which are held together by a white silk ribbon. They're all addressed to her, some were sent through the mail but most of them have only her name on the envelope, left in various places around the house. Some left on her pillow, gentle reminders of evenings spent in each other's arms. Some left by the coffee machine, little notes to say how much he cares. The one on top was left most recently on the bathroom sink, the place where they'd looked at the home pregnancy test together; a lasting memory of their blossoming family.

If she didn't love him so much, his pain now wouldn't bother her to such an extent. The bed began to bounce as Grissom's shoulders heaved repeatedly, he struggled not to cry. As he leaned into her, she cradled him, stroking his silver hair whispering to him that everything would be alright.

Calming a bit he spoke, through his now congested head. "How do you know? How do you know it'll be okay? Those people thought everything would be okay too, Sara. They had it all, and he lost it and killed the whole family."

"Grissom, is that what this is about? Your nightmares are about that man killing his family?"

"Yes… no, not him," He replied, staring blankly at her, hoping she'd just know, that he wouldn't have to say it.

"What? I don't understand, Grissom."

"They start off that way, the nightmares, but then they change mid-way through." He paused, still looking hopefully at her, but realizing as she waited for him to continue that she still didn't get it, he carried on. "It's no longer him killing his family. It's me, I've taken his place."

"Grissom, you could never do those things," Sara barely breathed out, unable to comprehend how he could think he was capable of such acts. "You could never do any of those things. You're a good man."

"So was he, Sara. He was a good person, from a good family with a good job and a lovely young… a lovely young wife and a beautiful daughter, and we're going to have…" Grissom struggled, not wanting to cry again, with deep breaths he tried to temper the tears, to stop the sobs before they began again, but he was unable to. One broke through; penetrating the wall which he'd tried so desperately to build up. And as the one slipped out, more followed until they were a force all their own, a being which took him over completely for the moment.

Squeezing her arms around him more tightly, she held him. Allowing him to rid himself of all the poison, she let him cry until he stopped on his own. Stealing her strength and cleansing himself in her comfort.

"The right job, the right neighborhood, money, none of it mattered, Sara."

"Right, it didn't matter because he had problems, Grissom. There was something inside of him that made him do those things, something wrong with him. You're not like that."

"I know. I know we're not the same, that I'm not him, but I can't stop the nightmares. They come every night, and I just can't stop them. It makes me worry that maybe there is something deep down, if I keep dreaming about it maybe it's there somewhere."

Sara flinched and her face contorted; shocked that he could voice such a thing. "There is nothing inside of you like that, Grissom," Sara stated plainly.

"How can you be sure? I'm not even sure, Sara."

"Grissom, you can find similarities between all people. You and I both probably have a lot in common with Ted Bundy too, but neither of us is going to go out and abduct and kill women."

He seemed to be slowing down as he voiced all of his fears, but he still had some doubt. "But he was just a normal guy who seemed to have it all… like me."

Sara's throat clenched at those words and tears now threatened her own eyes. That was one of the nicest things he'd ever said to her; that having her and soon the baby was having it all, and she was dangerously close to breaking down herself.

"Not like you, you're a good man." She managed to squeak out.

"You make me a good man, Sara." Leaning in he kissed her lips gently before pulling back and seeing the love for him in her eyes. He knew then he would never be able to do anything to jeopardize that.

"You're not him, and we're not them. I love you and you love me, and we're going to have a beautiful daughter, a beautiful family. And you are not having those dreams anymore," Sara commanded.

Grissom grinned; his face haggard after his tears but feeling alive again with love and pride. "Just like that huh? Sara said so, and that's that," Grissom teased as he wiped his face with his hands.

"Don't I always have the last word in this house, Grissom?"

"Yeah, probably, I just don't always listen as you're saying it," Grissom chided. Turning serious again he continued, "Thanks Sara, for being there, for listening to my foolishness."

"Anytime, I wish you'd open up to me more often and it's not foolishness, well all except for the Gabby stuff. Grissom, we are so finding a new name for this child."

"Sara, you can't make me look through that book again, at least not until the next baby."

End

Battus philenor


End file.
